From one Raven's eye

Page 7

THE GAMBLER

Say, was that you I saw at the racetrack last weekend or at the bingo the other night? No, eh. Well, someone was wearing your clothes and trying to pretend it wasn't you and walked by me at the casino.

At every bingo and every racetrack I've been at a significant number of intent brown faces have been there, too. Now, are you absolutely sure that wasn't you? Hmmmmm...

Well then let me ask you this anyway. Why do you think it is we Indians love to gamble? Of course not all of us do, only someone with the IQ of a bingo chip would think that was so. However, back to the point.. .What is it in the turn of a card, a ripping open of a nevada ticket or waiting on a number to come up in a lottery that turns us on as much as it does? Maybe it's because our life expectancy is about ten years less than other people's so we have less chance to be taking chances. Who knows.

In preparing for this column I undertook some appropriate research on the subject. Turns out my pay for this piece won't quite cover those personally financed research costs.

And Mike, the pawnshop guy who now knows me on a first name basis is probably having a good laugh over our dealing right now. He's probably sitting there on what used to be my couch, watching what used to be my colour TV as well. He would be sitting in what used to be my living room, too, except the thing wouldn't fit through the hawkshop door and he wouldn't accept it chopped up in smaller bits.

Well, actually things never went that far. I learned long ago that being lucky for me meant being around to watch someone else prance off with the prize. Gambling, in my way of figuring, is not guessing how much I might win but how much I can afford to lose.

For example, when I set out for the races I always take along a spare shirt. Then

I tape my return busfare to a relatively inaccessible part of my body. That's what kind of gambler I am.

The first night the track opened this year we went. It was snowing so hard the horses responsible for my bets went snowblind and they haven't found all of them yet.

If you've never been to the track, think about giving it a try. It's sort of like bingo on legs.

A person can learn where and how to make bets in about five minutes or so. Picking the horses that will make you money, that's the hard part.

You can buy a racing form, a newspaper type thing that lists each horse's lifetime and recent records, where they raced and how large the stakes were - just about everything except what kind of mood the animal is in that day.

You can also actually look over the critters as they are getting saddled up or when they are paraded by the grandstand.

That never helps me much. After I count their legs and check to see whether both nostrils are working, they all look the same to me. I used to go by how their ears twitched and whether they had that certain gleam in their eye. Once this skinny old thing looked right at me, winked and grinned, then flicked its fly-bitten ear. Aha. This one is just ready to run, I thought, trotting off to make my bet. Well that wink and that twitch cost me ten bucks. That candidate for the dogmeat and glue make every place took off like a shot halfway around the track then decided it was a nice day for a walk.

Another thing I do is bet on any horse that has a Native sounding name. Gee I don't know how many years of treaty money I've lost on horses with names like Larry Flying Arrow, Bannock To Go and Macaroni by Morning.

Next on the research list is bingo, which my wife refuses to go. Luckily, my cousin showed up for a visit so we went instead. On our way home we were just complaining to each other. You notice how only the white people were winning everything, I pointed out. My cousin figured we should use gold mine cards next time. You win on those and double your money, she said. Sure enough, the next night we came closer alright. The person sitting across the table from us bingoed twice, that's how close we ame.

The final score at the end of that gambling foray was caller 2, Ojibway zero.

At the casino, which I don't know much about, I lost twenty dollars in less than five minutes. If I had stayed three hours like I had intended, that would have cost me 720 dollars. That's all I needed to know about casinos. Those places are for more serious and poker faces than mine, that's for sure.

There are two other things about gambling that confuse me which maybe you can help me with. This first one concerns winnings, which I don't have too much experience at. The question is, why, when a person wins, do they have to pretend they aren't all excited about it? Everybody gets a more you can't-tell-what-I'm-thinking-or-feeling look in their face even as they stash the cash in their pocket. Is that a rule or what? If she smiles or yells, grab it all back?

The other thing is who out there ever loses besides me. All I ever herd is boy-did-I-clean-up stories. Maybe the enjoyment of the gambling process clouds the reality of the situation. Or maybe talking about losing keeps me l-o-s-i-n-g.

What I do know is that there are no bigtime bingo hustlers and very few full time horse players our there. The only professional gambler I've ever met made his living by being large and deadly at cards. Also, how many bingo halls or racetracks ever go broke?

One time this friend of mine had a wife who got a job frying hamburgers at the racetrack. My friend had never been to the track before in his life. Well he started coming around to pick up his wife after work and to kill time began making a few bets. Well by the end of that summer he was being evicted, his kids were going hungry and his marriage was in trouble, too. The gambling bug bit into him good and hard. He eventually beat it, but he told me that all the fun goes out of betting when rent and groceries are riding on the outcome.

Well, that's it for now, I have to get busy and write another column to help pay

off this weeks operating xpenses. Say, how much do you want to bet I get another one done and in on time, too? I'll even give you five to one odds. If I lose, you can have this typewriter. So what if it's rented. I know this guy named Mike who'll buy almost anything.